My poems are anonymous, anonymous them all.
From within they come, sometimes.
Pain and separation, catalysts of creation,
Keep them fresh I must.
Catalysts of creation, pain and separation
In them alone do I trust.
Keep it alive, deep within, that pain,
And drop by drop, let it drip and stain
The life. Drop by drop, from raw laceration
Of wounded separation,
And word by word on page let it fall.
Let poetry live, at least sometimes.
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